Few Understand Poem by Noah Body

What can you do when all is moot?
When in the end you can't give a hoot?

Pointless it seems that all must be
Cannot best the beast inside of me

A most sly, cunning monster is he
All eternity he has to torture me

Patience of pure hatred is his power
While alone in vile darkness I cower

He knows me better then even do I
The best of me he twists to make me cry

Towards evil he turns all I hold dear
As I cringe before him in abject fear

Even the mercy of God he blots out
No path round his walls can I scout

His essence shear agony and fear
Stronger he grows with each single tear

Alone and isolated he keeps me caged
While I've weakened each year that I've aged

Few understand it's not death I seek
I just can't go on, I've grown so weak